


C.L.O.T.H.I.N.G.

by zeldafire



Series: The Merc, the Hero, and the Wardrobe [1]
Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Bad Jokes, Based on a Tumblr Post, Domestic, Established Relationship, Fluff, Humor, I Had A Lot Of Fun With This, Jokes, M/M, i guess?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-22
Updated: 2016-08-22
Packaged: 2018-08-10 08:16:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7837207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zeldafire/pseuds/zeldafire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A short look into Wade's peculiarities when it comes to knockoff merchandise and the sharing of clothes.  </p><p>I attempted some comedy with this one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	C.L.O.T.H.I.N.G.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sciderman](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sciderman/gifts).



> This is based off of sci’s headcanon, which can be found [here](http://sciderman.tumblr.com/post/142950307642/do-you-have-any-spideypool-or-stormpilot). Hope you like it, sci!
> 
> It might make more sense if you read the headcanon first, because this fic is quite a different format. But that also might be kinda spoilerish, so I leave that up to you which to read first. 
> 
> But I love it, the format, the headcanon, this whole thing. It’s such a perfect headcanon, I got the idea for this fic almost immediately after reading it and the section titles were done within half an hour. It was just getting myself to fill in the rest over the last 4 months… Damn I’m slow.
> 
> Beta'd by my most wonderful friend, [Hiekomi](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Hiekomi/profile)

**C hina  
Read: Made In**

“Petey, I’m hooome!” Wade calls out as he barrels through the door, arms laden with bags. Peter looks up from his book and groans.

“Please tell me those are weapons. Swords. Grenades. _Ninja stars_?” Peter ventures hopefully.

“God, Peter, _please_. For the last time, it’s _shuriken_. Respect the language. And hell no, these aren’t weapons!” he cries, flinging his arms wide. The bags sway and threaten to topple him with their combined inertia. “Well okay, this one is.” Wade drops a small duffle and kicks it aside. Peter eyes it cautiously.

“Apparently nothing explosive?”

“Nah, just a little TNT,” Wade shrugs as he moves past the bag. “But you gotta see this stuff! Hong Kong was the best!”

Peter barely manages to scoot back before Wade’s haul is dumped all over the couch, burying a bit of Peter’s leg that hadn’t escaped in time. A sundry of items issue forth, cascading over the cushions and falling to the floor. Bright toys and trinkets, cheap souvenirs, some sort of wall scroll, and more gaudy t-shirts than Peter can count. There are even strange beauty products, a bottle that may or may not be shampoo, a variety of snack foods, and what claims to be a neck massager but looks suspiciously otherwise.

And they all have one thing in common. One very important shared trait that meant Wade couldn’t help himself, just had to buy it and bring it home and stuff it on the overflowing shelves with the rest of his overwhelming collection.

It’s all branded red; some with blue and others with black. Not officially, of course. Wade wasn’t paying into his own royalties, smart as that return on investment would be. No, their apartment is full to bursting with knockoffs, bootleg Spider-Man and Deadpool merchandise no one in their right mind would be caught dead with.

Unfortunately for Peter, Wade’s mind hasn’t been quite right in a decade. And the dead thing? He’s been there, done that, too.

“Wait ‘til you see these!” Wade practically squeals as he digs out a set of superhero action figures. The proportions are horribly off, each of the little molded men looking more tortured than heroic behind their clear plastic prison. “We’re in here together. See? ‘Dudepoop’ is me,” Wade reads off, pointing to what may or may not be his likeness. Quite frankly Peter thinks it’s hard to tell. “And here’s you,” Wade slides his finger over and starts giggling. “‘Spiterman.’ _Spite_ -rman! It’s like they _know_ you!” Peter glares and Wade laughs louder.

“Wonderful. I’m glad you spent your paycheck wisely.”

“No, Pete, this is the best. Look, they even have us in here with Superman! Well, ‘Supperman,’ but dinner vision is way cooler than wall-repair vision anyway.”

“Who’s Superman?”

“What? Oh, I don’t know. Now help me find somewhere good to put this where we can see it.”

Peter sighs and gets up, a little exasperated but unable to deny Wade his unique though currently excessive hobby. He’ll help Wade shift some things around on the shelf, make a space for the new toys front and center. For now, that is.

If a few of his older treasures go missing when next Wade is out, that only means room for more, right?

  


* * *

**L ost  
Read: On Purpose**

“Peter, where’s my suit with the blood stain on it?”

“They all have blood stains,” Peter calls from the living room, not looking up from the web shooter currently in pieces in front of him.

“You know the one! With the stain!” Incredibly Peter does know the suit in question and he figures it’s about time to re-examine his life choices.

“You tossed it in the corner. So probably there. Growing something,” he adds with distaste.

“Found it! And ooo, look! It may be sentient!” Slow movement catches the corner of Peter’s eye and he looks up to see Wade’s suit wiggling into view around the doorframe. Wade’s made a duck bill with his hand under the fabric and it slowly starts nuzzling the moulding. 

“Mmm, Peter,” he purrs as the “mouth” moves, voice a thick nasal from the back of his throat. “I’m so glad we could finally meet in person. All those times I was pressed up against your tight body, felt your hands all over me, ready to give me what I needed. And then that big grody idiot got in the way, tossing me aside like common clothing. I couldn’t stand it! But now, now we can be alone togetherrr…” 

“Mmm, yes,” Peter agrees, biting back a laugh. “But first, my darling, you must wash yourself. You smell of that overgrown baby-man and cheeze whiz.”

“Oh! Yes, anything for you, my love. To the wash!” Wade appears from behind the door, swirling his arm about and making great whooshing noises as the suit “flies” to the kitchen. After a moment, the sound of the machine filling with water pervades their small apartment and Wade is suddenly in front of Peter, clad in nothing but a pair of boxers that read “Dedpoul” across the crotch.

“Didn’t see those in your latest haul,” Peter remarks as he gets back to work.

“What? I swear I showed you these. One-hundred percent nylon. Itchy as fuck and I think my balls are going to shrivel up from water loss. So breathable!”

“Mmm, wonderful visual. Remind me never to fondle you there again.”

“Petey, please! These are the height of style, you cannot fault me. And there’s nothing else clean.”

“You had a full drawer of underwear two days ago.”

“Really? Shit I didn’t look in the drawer. But no. That was the only suit I could find and there’s _maybe_ three to five shirts on the floor in the bedroom. And my pants are non-existent.”

“I can see.” Peter quirks an eyebrow at him and Wade jiggles his lower half in response.

“And how does this keep happening? Every week you somehow seem to have fewer and fewer clothes, despite the fact that you bring home at least ten t-shirts every international mission.” Peter gives him his best evil eye—the one Aunt May taught him—and waits.

Wade shrugs and looks down at him, bemused. His innocence is as transparent as a wet tissue.

“Uh-huh,” Peter tuts.

There’s a game Wade’s playing at, losing his clothes on purpose. Peter doesn’t know what it is yet, but sooner or later, he’s going to figure it out.

  


* * *

**O verjoyed  
Read: Definitely Not**

It’s sooner rather than later when after only a moment’s hesitation, Wade asks, “why aren’t we the kind of couple that shares clothes?”

“You heard the suit,” Peter says, pointing to the kitchen. “Because you stink, Wade.”

“That’s not very nice.”

But Wade can’t argue with his own words, whether they came from his makeshift puppet or not, and he slumps into the armchair to wait for his suit to finish its cycle.

Peter takes the silence as the rare gift it is and ruminates over the foreseeably grim future in store for his precious little clothing.

  


* * *

**T ight  
Read: Unattractive Re-adjustments**

It’s been a few days since the last of Wade’s clothes have “mysteriously” disappeared and he’s walking around the apartment in a pair of Peter’s shorts and a shirt about three sizes too small. The stretch of the fabric makes him look positively massive and Peter has to concede that he’s eyed the extra emphasis of his muscles more than once. Peter’s always had a bit of a thing for the way Wade’s arms flex, thick and corded under his skin. It’s sexy and they both know it.

What isn’t sexy is the way Wade’s currently picking the shorts out of his asscrack.

Peter winces and looks away, but he knows he won’t be able to keep quiet for long.

  


* * *

**H ot  
Read: Italian Sausage**

“You’d probably be more comfortable in something your own size,” Peter finally says a few minutes later.

“Eh, I don’t know about that, baby boy,” Wade says with a shrug and a teasing wink. He twists and struts across the living room. The shirt rides even higher, a feat Peter thought impossible with the way the hem already skimmed his belly button, and Wade finishes his catwalk with a pose, arm up and bent at the elbow to rest behind his head. A position he uses to not so sneakily tug the collar away from its vice-grip on his neck.

“It looks better on me,” Wade croons.

“It looks vacuum sealed.”

“Just face it, I look hot.” Peter snorts.

“Yeah, like Italian sausage.”

“Ooo, but you _love_ sausage,” Wade squeals as he pounces on Peter. 

They roll on the couch, a fit of giggles and flailing limbs as Wade wrestles his way into Peter’s arms, the latter too amused by the situation to put up a real fight. That is, until their fun is interrupted by the loud tearing of fabric.

“Oops?”

Peter shoves Wade off the couch and denies all physical contact for the rest of the night.

  


* * *

**I nevitable  
Read: Popped Seams**

“You’ve got like, twenty new shirts in that bottom drawer. I don’t know why you’re complaining.”

“I’m not wearing a cheap shirt you bought me in Taiwan that says ‘Speederman’ on it to work. Aside from being completely embarrassing and unsightly, half of them are practically see-through, the material’s so thin.”

“Mmm, I know,” Wade hums as he drapes his arms around Peter’s shoulders and nuzzles into the nape of his neck. “Your nipples show through the white ones.”

“Which is precisely why I can’t wear them to work!” Peter ignores the man wrapped around him and digs desperately through his shirt drawer, hoping against hope that Wade has managed to miss one of his publically acceptable tops over the last few weeks. The rest have steadily made it to the trash as each and every one was destroyed at the seams by Wade’s larger build.

“I dunno, maybe JJ would give you a promotion? They _are_ such a lovely shade. Like a tortilla that’s been fried just a little too long.”

“Only you could equate someone’s nipples with tortillas.” Peter gives up his quest and slumps back against Wade in a pitiful attempt at petulance, letting him hold all his weight. Wade responds predictably by snaking his hands down and securing Peter firmly to his chest.

“I’ll tell you what, baby boy. I’ll go shopping while you’re at work today, and when you get back, there’ll be a whole pile of clothes just for you.”

“That’s half the problem in the first place! _And_ you’ve already destroyed the numerous replacements I’ve spent way too much money on!” The exasperation in his voice is par for the course and Peter knows that by now Wade just ignores it. At least when it comes to the little things.

“Well, if you won’t accept my gracious offer, I guess you’ll just have to suffer. You’re so good at it, you know.”

Peter rolls his eyes and catches a glance of blue in the corner behind the drawer. He breaks free, rushes across the room, and before Wade can catch him, holds a slightly wrinkled shirt above his head.

“Hah! Look what I managed to find! No way!” he exclaims as Wade makes for the article of clothing. Peter leaps to the ceiling out of reach. “I’m going to have one last day of normal before this shirt explodes off your girthy body.”

“You’ve never complained about my girth before.” 

Peter scuttles out of the bedroom before Wade can get hold of him and make good on the pelvic gyration that accompanies his lewd comment.

  


* * *

**N ecessity  
Read: Born Of**

“This is seriously not all you had to give me,” Peter whines as he tugs the slipping strap of Wade’s overly large wife-beater back up. “I did the laundry and I know you have more clean clothes.”

“I dunno, but the off-the-shoulder look really suits you.” Wade leers and Peter can’t stand it anymore.

He gets up off the couch and has to pull his shorts up along with him, impeding his escape. 

“Dammit, these are too big!”

“When you’re right, you’re right,” Wade sighs. “I can’t see your ass at all in my shorts.”

“And whose fault is that, huh?” Peter demands as the tank slips again and he loses hold of the shorts in his grab for it. Everything sags and sinks and Peter feels like he’s swimming. 

Wade looks from Peter’s pitifully buried form up to his flashing eyes, a shit-eating grin plastered across his face.

  


* * *

**~~G uilty~~ Giddy  
Read: Worth It**

“All those wedgies were totally worth it.”

~*~

**Author's Note:**

> OMG SCI DREW ART FOR IT!!! [It's right here and it's so gorgeous!](http://sciderman.tumblr.com/post/149370649947/clothing-zeldafire-spider-man-all)
> 
> -What I mean about the personal massager looking suspicious refers to Japanese “neck massagers,” which legit look like vibrators. The following are SFW pictures of what I'm refering to:  
> [1](http://image.rakuten.co.jp/yuasa-p/cabinet/s_img3/4562229631848-1.jpg)  
> [2](http://shopping.c.yimg.jp/lib/e-kurashi/q2j64-1.jpg)  
> If you need more proof, just search 電気マッサージ (electric massager).
> 
> -Superman’s [wall vision](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DfwHe0NqVvY).


End file.
